


you turned into your worst fears

by 5ambreakdown



Series: folklore [5]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, also patrick, and stevie too, david freaking the heck out, david is happy, pizza is a love language all its own, s5, set post meet the parents but pre the hike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ambreakdown/pseuds/5ambreakdown
Summary: “So, let’s see if I got this right. You screamed like a small child, and then almost dropped a candle on your boyfriend’s foot, because you’re happy?”or, david realizes he's actually happy and reacts accordingly
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Stevie Budd & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: folklore [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925257
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	you turned into your worst fears

**Author's Note:**

> so this turned out way longer than i originally planned it to be, but these boys made me soft and pushed me into a whole new direction with this. 
> 
> as always for this series, can be read as a stand alone. title from "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift

David doesn’t mind when the store is quiet. Sure, it can be too quiet and lead to snippy comments from his mother and his partner serenading him in front of half the town, but the lulls in between rushes are admittedly nice. It allows him to relax and just bask in this little thing he helped make, something that was all him and none of his parents. The store represents so much of his success, and, for some odd reason, he doesn’t find that fact nearly as debilitatingly terrifying as he once thought it would. 

He’s just here, with the man he loves and who loves him in this small space they created together. People often tell him how much the store screams _David_ , and while he can certainly see himself in it, more and more each day he sees _Patrick_ written across every surface and in every crevice. In all honesty and sincerity, none of this would exist without Patrick. It would have crashed and burned in minutes alongside David. 

Patrick’s currently finishing up some vendor contracts or paperwork or something that David tuned out once Patrick mentioned the word _signature_. He would be back, soon, though, that much David had paid attention to. Stevie needed a break from his dad and Roland, so he has her company while she pretends to help so she can steal wine or cheese or moisturiser and whatnot, at least.

It’s a quiet day, the lull of a Thursday afternoon settling peacefully over the store. Nina Simone’s voice drifts through the store and David hums along. She would murder David if he ever mentioned it to anyone, but Stevie is swaying along, her mouth moving along to the lyrics as the two dance around each other to restock candles and bottles of body milk. 

They get lost in their work for the next hour, startling up when the bell jingles as Patrick walks in.

“Hey,” Patrick greets softly as he walks up next to David, hand on the small of his back as he presses a soft, chaste kiss to David’s lips.

“Hi,” David responds softly, fondly.

Stevie’s smile is small, content, full of a sincerity she would never admit to but feels safe enough to share in their presence. She sends a little wave Patrick’s way which he gratefully returns with another smile.

Patrick briefly retreats to the back to place down his things and then heads to the counter to turn the volume up on the speakers before drawing himself closer to David to help with restocking.

The warmth of being surrounded by his two favorite people envelops David, hugging him tightly in a security he isn’t desperately trying to remember every curve of before it’s ripped away from him. This, his life with Patrick and Stevie, his store, hell even his family’s newfound closeness, that’s all his, not going anywhere anytime soon. He’s not waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop anymore. He’s not terrified that Patrick’s going to come to his senses and realize he deserves someone better than David, leaving him, and the store, for dead. He’s no longer unsure of where he and Stevie stand, completely firm in the knowledge that their friendship is genuine and not just one by proximity. 

He helped build this life, a successful, happy life that is all his.

Happy.

Holy fuck.

“Holy fuck!” David shouts, nearly breaking the candle he was holding, only for Patrick to reach out just in time and catch it.

Stevie’s eyes are lit up wide from across the table, mouth slightly agape as she clutches tightly to the bottle of body milk, as if she’s now susceptible to catching David’s clumsiness.

Patrick places the candle on the table and moves one hand to David’s back, looking at him cautiously as he tries to assess what exactly caused his boyfriend to shout and almost break merchandise.

“You okay, David?” Patrick asks slowly, the mood in the room shifting from the carefree ease of moments before to an apprehensive buzz. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Good.” His wild eyes and pitched tone suggest far from otherwise.

Patrick and Stevie steal a glance, their well-worn _David’s full of shit_ look. Stevie peers around the store, trying to spot whatever could have made him scream like he walked in on his parents again. As far as she could tell, there were no flying insects, no back room items out on display, no disfigurements on either Patrick or David’s face, nothing wrong with any products. She was even lining up the bottles of body milk in the very precise way David had spent an entire afternoon showing her. Everything was fine, perfect even. 

Patrick keeps his eyes on David, looking for any falter that might give away what happened. There was nothing. David’s panicked recession into his mind is unreadable and indistinct from every other time. Except this time, there was no discerning trigger. 

“David, love,” Patrick says slowly, not without a teasing lilt, rubbing his hand up and down David’s back. “Would you mind telling us what happened just now?’

David looks up, something in his eyes changing as he seemingly remembers where he is. He looks at Patrick, over to Stevie, down at the candle he dropped, and then back to Patrick. He opens his mouth and both Patrick and Stevie lean forward to hear his answer, but he looks back down at the candle. “I’m happy.” It comes out breathy, full of disbelief.

Patrick and Stevie look at each other again, David’s answer obviously not clearing up anything for them.

“So, let’s see if I got this right. You screamed like a small child, and then almost dropped a candle on your boyfriend’s foot, because you’re _happy_?” Stevie raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Yes!” His hands start to flail, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Okay, okay.” Patrick grabs his wrists, somewhat effectively lowering his arms. 

Still, David tries moving his arms, Patrick’s grip remaining intact, making the whole ordeal a little more difficult and much more absurd. “I’m not meant to be the type of person who’s happy! Who has a dependable best friend and a - would you please stop that? - adoring boyfriend. I’m meant to live in some constant drudge of misery and pain.” Finally having free-use of his arms, he places them on his hips and leans against the table. 

“I don’t know if I would say ‘adoring’,” Patrick laughs out, hoping the teasing will calm David’s sudden outburst a little. The glare he gets in return lets Patrick know he did nothing to assuage David’s nerves.

“Okay, well, I’ve already reached my emotional limit for today after I was forced to listen to your dad and Roland talk about the joys of fatherhood. So unless you’d like to empty out your stock of wine to compensate for me staying, I’m gonna go.” She already has her bag slung over your shoulder as she jabs her thumb over in the direction of the door. 

David is looking away at the shelves behind them, so Stevie shoots Patrick a knowing nod. He responds with a small smile. Over their time knowing each other, and knowing David, they’ve created a tag-team effort in comforting the man. With each seemingly petty and ridiculous freak out - almost always actually about something much deeper if they poked at it enough for David to spill out - they’ve been able to discern which ones are boyfriend conversations and which ones are best friend conversations. And which ones just required alcohol and a joint, or maybe just a marathon of Julia Stiles and Sandra Bullock. As Stevie had quickly decided, this particular incident is definitely a boyfriend conversation. 

Patrick said a quick goodbye to Stevie and David mustered some sort of misconstrued grunt, eyes glued back to the table and away from everyone else. Well, away from Patrick. The only indication he hasn’t gone frozen in shock is the steady twisting of each of the rings on his fingers, moving one in a full rotation before moving on to the next. 

Patrick leans against the table, facing David. One hand supports his weight on the table, the other on his hip. “David,” he begins, eyes never leaving his face, “Would you say that I’m deserving of happiness?”

David’s head snaps over to face the other man, and Patrick is briefly concerned that the movement would strain a muscle or snap something in half. He doesn’t have too much time to worry about that, however, because David wastes no time spiraling into how utterly absurd that question is in the loudest volume he can while still maintaining an incredibly fond tone, because yes, of course Patrick deserves to be happy.

“Patrick! What kind of fucking question is that? Of course you deserve to be happy! Have you met yourself? You’re this perfect little angelic button of a man. You’re really fucking generous, your smile could probably cure a disease or two, you put up with all my shit with said smile, you order me _pizza_ and buy me _coffee_ -”

“David, David, David,” Patrick lightly laughs out, putting his arms up to grab his boyfriend by his biceps and slow his flailing arms. “So, know that we’ve established all the reasons why I deserve to be happy-”

“Well, not all the reasons. There are many, many more that I haven’t listed yet-”

“-I should be clear that you, David Rose, make me very, very happy. It makes me even more happy to know that you’re happy. So, you not being happy is actually denying me the happiness that I so obviously deserve.”

David twists his face up, avoiding Patrick’s smug grin as he removes his hold on his arms, as he tries to find some sort of loophole. While, yes, everything Patrick says tracks, David is hardly convinced.

“Okay, it’s just that- just because something _makes you happy_ , doesn’t mean that you, like, need it to be happy.” Patrick tilts his head to the side, very ready to argue with him, but David cuts him off. “Like, muffins make me happy. Do I smile when I see a muffin? Yes. Do I sometimes make obscene bedroom noises while eating muffins? Yes, but never tell Stevie or Alexis. Do I occasionally feel like I would do illegal things to get a muffin? Absolutely. Would I be sad if muffins weren’t a part of my life anymore? Um, who wouldn’t be? But muffins aren’t essential to my happiness - I could find something else to satisfy that.”

Patrick’s hands find their place on David’s shoulders, shaking him a little to fully get his attention. “David,” he says fondly, dipping his head to catch David’s avoidant gaze. He ends up chasing him around a little before resigning to simply grabbing his boyfriend firmly by the face. “You are more than just a muffin to me.”

His face does something weird, trying to look up at the ceiling, but Patrick’s hands are holding him firmly in place. He ends up with something of a combined scowl and tucked in smile, his eyes betraying the nonchalance he’s trying to convey. “Patrick, I already narrowly avoided crying this morning when the office ran out of cinnamon buns. We don’t need to go down that path again.”

“I mean, you’re at least a nice waffle, or, like, a giant cookie.”

David swats Patrick’s side, but falls against him when Patrick can’t hold his resolve anymore and breaks into laughter. They lean against each other, Patrick’s head falling onto his spot in the crook of David’s neck, his boyfriend’s cheek resting on top of his head. Their arms float to their homes, Patrick circling David’s waist and David wrapping his arms around Patrick’s neck. They laugh until they can’t breathe, holding each other the whole way.

The rest of the day flows by with witty banter and Nina’s stories of love and heartache. There are little taps against hips, fingers fluttered across shoulders, quick kisses to temples, fond glances from across the store. Soon, upselling and ringing up the few customers who walk in turns into sweeping the floor and counting the till. 

It doesn’t take too long to close up, David only putting up half of his normal fight to carry out the full closing checklist Patrick had taped up in the back room. Soon - though not soon enough if anyone had bothered to ask David - Patrick’s arms were wrapped around his waist, tugging him in closer for a kiss.

“You coming over?” he asks softly when they pull back.

“Mhmm,” David nods in assent. 

“Good.”

“Good? Why is that good.” David doesn’t even try to hide his grin.

“Because I like it when I get to spend the night with my boyfriend.”

Satisfied with Patrick’s answer, David nods, giving him one last kiss before going into the back to grab their things. 

After they’ve settled at Patrick’s apartment, David sprawls out on the tiny loveseat. Dressed in joggers and a collegiate baseball hoodie he definitely took without asking Patrick, David let out a contented sigh. Patrick presses a glass of wine into his hand, and he hums in gratitude. He lifts up David’s legs as he sits down on the couch, dropping them into his lap.

After a little while of just sitting and drinking, David dozing in and out of sleep as Patrick rubs circles into his legs, absentmindedly flipping through his phone. 

“Can we order pizza?” David asks, sleepy voice muffled by the pillow he shoved his face into. 

Before Patrick can respond, the doorbell rings. He lifts David’s legs off of him to stand up, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Already did,” he whispers before moving to go answer the door.

By the time Patrick returns with the pizza, David is sitting up on the couch, a stupid, dopey, still slightly sleepy smile on his face. Patrick wants to kiss all of it.

“You ordered me pizza before I even asked?” He eyes the pizza box on the coffee table briefly, choosing to instead focus on Patrick.

“Of course,” he shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal. But of course it’s a big deal, because he fucking _anticipated_ David’s pizza cravings. And so what if his food habits are pretty predictable? It’s a straight fire way into David’s heart since he can think of exactly zero other people who would do that for him.

David hums, absolutely delighted and not trying to hide any of it. “This is why I love you.” 

As soon as Patrick sits down David’s mouth is on his. He lingers until David tries to deepen the kiss, pulling back because he’s allowed to be a complete tease. “Sure it is.”

David leans back enough to see his smirk and return a gape. He swats Patrick’s bicep. “Well with that attitude I might have to reconsider.”

“Okay, David.” He plants a kiss on David’s cheek before settling back into the couch, angling his body so he can face David. “Because you love me so much, do you want to go get plates and napkins? And more wine while you're at it?”

“Mhm, no. I think this is much better.” David scoots back a little on the couch so his back is closer to the armrest opposite Patrick. Patrick definitely pouts at the loss in proximity, but David pretends not to notice as he picks the box up off the coffee table and places it on the couch between them. He nods. “This is the ideal way to eat pizza. Also, you still have wine in your glass, so I’m not getting you more.”

“Well, can’t argue with that logic. Shall we?” he asks, gesturing towards the now open box.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

By the time they’re halfway through the box, just as David is readily reaching for another slice, Patrick deftly swipes the box off the couch and onto the table. Quite possibly to keep David from sprinting off with the pizza, Patrick swings his legs over so they rest in David’s lap.

He just sits there, hand in midair and mouth agape, eyes wide with shock and betrayal. Patrick tilts his head to the side, blinking his eyes innocently with that fucking smile.

“I take it back. I actually hate you.”

“Aw c’mon, David! I ordered you pizza!”

“Which you _stole_ from me like we’re in some prison fighting for the last bit of food!”

“Well, then, guess I’ll just have to make it up to you,”’ Patrick responds, voice low and gravelly

“Oh?” David matches his tone, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“Yeah,” Patrick whispers as he leans closer, pushing himself so he’s only inches from David. He moves to lift David’s chin with two fingers, tilting his head to lean in for a kiss. Except he doesn’t kiss David, because he’s a fucking tease. Instead, he evades David’s eager mouth and plants a kiss to his cheek with a disgusting _smack_ , quickly pulling back with that stupid grin growing across his stupid face by the stupid second.

David quite cleverly responds with a dumbfounded expression that Patrick would only describe as _irresistibly sexy._ Well, not quite irresistibly, apparently.

“What the fuck,” David whispers, and that’s all it takes for Patrick to burst out laughing.

He’s in complete hysterics, rolling back into the couch, head flopping onto the armrest behind him. He clutches his stomach, actually _howling_ until he’s crying and red and blotchy. David doesn’t get what’s so damn funny.

“Mhmm, okay. You’re not actually that funny, Patrick.”

“Aren’t I, though?” he more or less wheezes out.

“I could have been _inside you_ right now, but no, you’re over here floundering like a pathetic fish.”

“Aww, David, do you really think I look like a fish?” Patrick says with far too much fondness than warranted. He sits up, only to be met with David’s scowl, and he almost falls back again. 

David grabs his biceps and holds him up. “Okay, nope. Not doing that again.”

He shakes his head before looking David in the eyes. “I’m sorry, David. I just- I like knowing that you’re happy.”

And just like that, Patrick’s back to being unbearably earnest. David can’t decide if this is a change for the better.

“And what would give you that impression? Because in the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been denied both pizza and sex, and my boyfriend seems pretty set on making me miserable. So.”

Patrick nudges David with his foot. “Hey,” his voice is soft and gentle, because of course it is, because of course he would never push David too far. “What happened today? At the store.” 

He studies David’s face as it travels through a quick progression of numerous faces, loving each and every one. David’s conveniently ignoring eye contact, but Patrick lets him, knowing David will get there when he’s ready. He’s accepted the change in mood without a fight, so Patrick knows he doesn’t need any more prodding. 

Eventually, David closes his eyes and exhales, decidedly having pieced together what he wants to say. “I just.” Another deep breath. “I gave up the idea that I could have this kind of life a long time ago, and it’s still hitting me that I actually have it, like, securely.” His eyes fall to his lap where he begins twisting at his rings. Deep breath, eyes up. “I’m not worried about the store failing or Alexis running off to immediate danger or the fallout of a dumb hook up. I actually have friends, like, genuine friends who aren’t just using me for drinks or drugs or whatever. And after all you’ve seen I’m pretty sure nothing there’s nothing that can scare you off - which, honestly, Patrick, is a little concerning. For fuck’s sake, we’re having a serious conversation about how I’m happy for probably the first time. Who does that? Who _needs_ to do that?” He huffs and looks down again, not really wanting to see whatever is written all over Patrick’s face. Though, the voice telling him that it’s only fondness, love, and understanding is ringing pretty damn loud in his ears.

“David.” And with that tone how could he _not_ look up to meet Patrick’s eyes. “I spent nearly half of my life with someone I wasn’t remotely attracted to because I thought it would be easier. I know it’s not quite the same, but we’re both figuring out this happiness thing together. And, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that we make each other happy.”

He reaches out for David’s hand, and in response David lets out a little sigh, something that seemed like _thank you_ and _I love you_ and _you didn’t need to do all this, but I’m glad you did_ all jumbled up in a beautiful little breath. So they just smile at each other, fingers dancing lightly across the other’s hands for a moment. 

“Ugh. I can’t do this anymore.” Patrick doesn’t have time to find out what _it_ is, because David immediately all but launches into his chest, curling up between his legs and against his chest. He hums contentedly when Patrick snugly wraps his arms around his middle.

“I never thought I could have this,” David says after a beat, looping his arms around one of Patrick’s. He buries his face in David’s hair in response. “It scared me.”

“Thinking you couldn’t have this?”

David shakes his head. “No, the thought of having all of this.” He gestures vaguely around them. Patrick hums in understanding. “I didn’t know how any of it worked. I thought it wouldn’t suit me.”

“Did you want it, though?”

“Yeah, really fucking bad.”

“Me too.” David squeezes his arm, encouraging him to continue. “I thought people were mostly making it all up, the lifelong romances and actual happiness. I was fine with Rachel. Well I thought I was; I didn’t know any better. Which was the problem, I guess. I was fine and I thought that would be enough, that I would be okay with it.”

“But you weren’t. Okay with it.” It’s not really a question - they both know how the story ends - but Patrick answers anyway.

“No, I wasn’t. But I found you, so it was all worth it,” he says with a kiss to David’s head.

“You saying these nice things really isn’t helping with my whole happiness dilemma.”

He can’t help but smirk. “Would we consider that a bad thing, though?”

David hums. “No, no we would not.”

“Good.”

“Patrick?” David asks a few minutes later, both of them having rested in the peace of holding each other, basking in the security and love and soundness of it all.

“Hm, yes, love?”

“I’m really glad that we make each other happy, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> against my better judgement, find me on tumblr! [@5ambreakdown](https://5ambreakdown.tumblr.com/)


End file.
